Cold icy winds blow across the farms,
And the winter hay is in the barns.
Winter arrives with freezing cold,
Only it’s icy death can be so bold.
Harsh and freezing terrible winter’s chill,
Like the grim reaper taking those who fall ill.
Memories come back of those who fell,
Under your icy cold deceptive beautiful spell.
The world’s full of frolic all summer,
Now it’s winter’s turn to shine and glimmer.
Remember last summer how you drove by the farms,
Now the winter hay is in the barn.
How far those in the city are from the tractors,
Running after shiny new things and gadgets.
It’s so easy to forget ole John & Betty out on the farm,
When really some of the most important things are;
Is that the winter hay is in the barn.
– Chris A. Blount,
Phoenix, Arizona
